


A Sword To Pierce The Sun

by November_Ashes



Series: To Love What Is Mortal [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:56:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27174167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/November_Ashes/pseuds/November_Ashes
Summary: Leliana learns she is being nominated to become Divine Victoria and ponders what it would mean for Thedas, and for herself. Then she begins to scheme. Set in the ‘To Love What Is Mortal’ universe.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Leliana (Dragon Age), Female Lavellan/Leliana (Dragon Age)
Series: To Love What Is Mortal [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1935925
Kudos: 20





	A Sword To Pierce The Sun

**Author's Note:**

> I will be adding more to TLWIM as side stories like this and chapters to the original as soon as I work out what format I want. The chapters are starting to kind of skip around chronologically and I don’t want it to get confusing. Thank you for the kind words and kudos! Hope you enjoy :)

Night had fallen over Skyhold, sharpening the icy cold wind of the mountains. The trees in the courtyard rustled in the gusts that made it over the high walls, sending a swirl of leaves across the darkened stones ignored by the busy occupants of the castle as they hurried indoors. 

Josephine and Leliana were sitting on the roof of the smithy, which was both easily accessible even in the shoes Josie typically wore and warm despite the biting cold of the night. Between them was a mostly empty bottle of Antivan wine.

They hadn’t long been back from the Winter Palace and everyone involved was eager to decompress. 

For better or worse, Celene and Briala had reconciled and the Empress remained in power. Not Leliana’s ideal solution, but certainly workable. She had hoped to place Gaspard on the throne as Briala’s puppet. She and the elven woman hadn’t always seen eye to eye but she was certainly a firmer hand than Celene, willing to make sacrifices and unafraid to actually use power without bowing and simpering to the whims of bloated nobles. Briala had an edge that time in the capital had honed, where in Celene it had blunted. Orlais needed her sharpness now more than ever.

It was a two-edged sword, however, as so many situations often were. Crowning a new Emperor during a time of such unrest might have weakened his overall power base. People could say he was an empty suit of armor, an opportunist who had only come to power because Orlais was preoccupied, which was not untrue. How would a leader whose only talent was war fare during peace times, assuming Thedas ever reached such equilibrium?

Celene was the conservative choice and perhaps even best in the long run. There was still a chance Briala could provide the boot to the backside the Empress sorely needed at times. Then again, if she hadn’t managed over the past twenty some odd years, there was little chance she would suddenly muster the ability now.

The evening hadn’t been entirely misspent, of course. Her agents had managed to dig up an impressive amount of blackmail material on many of the noble houses of Orlais, Nevarra and Antiva, enough to keep them busy for the next several months securing favors for the Inquisition. And of course, there had been the dance…

When she found Lavellan at the end of the night out on the balcony, in spite of the excitement and intrigue of the night, the elf had asked her to dance. The wry way in which she asked seemed like she expected the Spymaster to decline.

Leliana had initially thought she should decline, too. 

Every move, every choice, every gesture made in the presence of the Orlesian court had to be carefully calculated. Enemies were always looking for a gap in her armor, and so Leliana was wary of sending a message--any message--when it came to her involvement with the Inquisitor other than as her Spymaster. 

They were both a little surprised when she accepted.

Leliana’s watchers knew of her reputation anyway and would be simply scratching their heads at what she meant to convey by dancing with Lavellan. She regretted that she had to waste so much energy thinking of such things rather than simply enjoying the moment.

Josephine had been delighted, of course.

“I spent weeks teaching her that! I am glad to know she finally managed it without stepping on toes, but mine are now jealous.”

Leliana laughed in surprise at the admission. “I wondered where she learned to dance! I thought it must have been here; I doubt they teach waltzes in the woodlands of the Free Marches but it didn't occur to me that you were her co-conspirator.” Her grin was accusing, and Josephine didn't even try to dissemble.

“It was very sweet. She wanted to get it just right in case you wanted to dance with her. I warned her, you know,” Josephine made a gesture with her half-empty wine glass. “What I would do to her if she toyed with your heart, but I must tell you... Keep a close eye on her or I might just have to steal her away from you.”

Leliana snorted. “Josephine, you are very dear to me. But Lavellan is mine and I am most jealous over things that belong to me.” She narrowed her eyes playfully at her friend. 

Josephine waved away the threat and finished her glass. “I'll find my own. What do you think of Cullen?”

Leliana's nose wrinkled. “Just when I was beginning to think you had taste.”

Josephine made a noise of offense and swatted at her. Below them in the courtyard, she caught sight of a pale-colored cat as it darted through the brush near the wall, followed closely by a larger black cat. She nudged Leliana and pointed. “Was that her?”

“Yes. Followed by our newest recruit. I think Lavellan is enjoying having a fellow shapeshifter around,” Leliana smirked.

“I still cannot get used to that,” Josephine sighed.

“There were no shapeshifting elves at the Antivan Embassy?” Leliana chuckled.

“We were branching out,” Josephine told her wryly. “Still, with darkspawn gods, archdemons, the walking dead and...whatever that lizard thing in the stables is, you would hardly think to find it odd that your leader occasionally turns into an owl to escape meetings with foreign dignitaries.”

“To be fair, DuFresne was truly making a pest of himself. Imagine hearing ‘no’ that often and still insisting upon another negotiation.”

Josephine made a sound of disgust. “So entitled. Perhaps she could attend the meeting next time as a bear. Either way, I imagine we would hear the last of him.”

“I will mention it,” Leliana promised.

The bottle had enough wine left for almost a whole glass. Leliana poured half into her own and half into Josie’s when the former ambassador held her glass up at her questioning gesture.

“So what is next? Now that we have upended the court and the Inquisition is on the lips of every noble house in three countries?”

Leliana hummed thoughtfully. “Next we will destroy a certain darkspawn magister. We have dallied long enough with all these other distractions. Corypheus’s time has come. Then I suppose we will have to deal with what is left of the Chantry. Once they have their wits about them, I doubt they will allow the Inquisition to remain intact.” 

“They have been quiet of late,” Josephine said suspiciously. “I wonder what it is they are plotting.”

“Hopefully we won’t find out until later,” Leliana told her dryly. “Much, much later.”

**

Leliana’s room was dark and quiet. That was good. 

She and Josie had stayed up talking quite late into the night. By the time she had checked her final reports for the day and caught up with Lavellan, both were too tired to make it all the way up to the Loft and instead retired to Leliana’s room, which was much closer.

They hadn’t bothered to get a fire going before falling asleep, and now only body heat and Leliana’s thick down blankets were between them and the icy room.

Lavellan had one arm out from beneath the blankets, palm directed at the fireplace and a very intent look on her face. She was determined to get the fire going and warm up the room without having to get out of bed herself. The blackened log sparked and crackled, but would not catch despite Lavellan’s efforts.

“It won’t work. The log is too charred,” Leliana told her helpfully. “You will have to get up and change it.”

Lavellan gave up her attempts to set the burnt log on fire and burrowed under the covers until only the tips of her ears were visible. “It’s too cold. I think we’ll have to stay here all day,” she decided.

Leliana giggled, burrowing under the covers with her. “I think I can manage to keep you warm,” she purred, nuzzling against the elf’s neck. Lavellan hummed in pleasure, cuddling closer to the former bard and tilting her head to the side to give her better access.

A sudden knock at the door halted Leliana’s explorations. She grunted a little in frustration as Lavellan sighed.

_ “Leliana? Are you awake? I am sorry to intrude but I need you. Or the Inquisitor. Or...both of you.” _

“Josephine?” Lavellan mouthed silently. Leliana rolled her eyes and nodded, putting a finger to her lips. When Leliana didn’t answer, Josephine would assume she was already in the Rookery and had just missed her. 

_ “Leliana?? Lavellan..?” _

The two huddled in bed together in silence. A scraping, rattling noise came from the area of the door latch and Leliana looked over in sudden alertness.

“Are you trying to pick my lock?” She asked in disbelief.

_ “I  _ **_knew_ ** _ you were in there,” _ Josephine’s triumphant, muffled voice came again.

Leliana sighed. “Sorry,  _ mon coeur _ ,” she said, wincing as she swept the covers back, causing the elf to yelp at the sudden gust of cold air. She grabbed a shirt off the back of the chair, pulling it over her head on the way to the door.

With an air of annoyance, Leliana swiftly unlocked and opened the door, leaning against the jamb and crossing her arms, waiting.

“I am very, very sorry,” Josie began, wilting under the Spymaster’s glare. “I am desperate. I have already put them off for hours.”

“Hours?” Leliana frowned, leaning out of the doorway and peering around Josephine in an attempt to see the angle of the sun.

“They arrived before dawn,” Josie confirmed. 

Sighing, Leliana stepped back and waved her inside, shutting the door and locking it behind her.

“Good morning, Inquisitor,” Josephine greeted wryly.

“Good morning, Josie.” Lavellan said from the bed, trying to appear dignified despite having gathered up all of the covers and wrapping herself into a bundle to stave off the cold. “Who is here to make demands of us at such an obscene hour?”

“The Chantry, naturally. They have sent six representatives, no doubt hoping to bully us with numbers. The Mothers have decided now that Orlais has stabilized for the moment, that the question of who shall become the next Divine is a most pressing matter. Which it is, truly, but they have nominated Leliana and Cassandra as potentials--neither of which can be spared to stand on ceremony around Val Royeaux while the Inquisition is attempting to end Corypheus’s threat.”

Lavellan just blinked at the ambassador.

Leliana had located her trousers and was just shrugging into her chainmail overcoat, tugging it down into place with impatient motions. “I will put an end to that nonsense once and for all.”

“I didn’t realize you two were being nominated,” Lavellan said, peering over at Leliana in question. 

Leliana waved a hand dismissively. “I had thought it was only a rumor. I didn’t even mention it to Cassandra, thinking it was rubbish,” she stated offhandedly, looking around for her boots.

“If they’ve been persistent enough to wait here for hours, seeing one of their actual nominees might make things worse. Perhaps I can persuade them to back off, if you’d prefer?” Lavellan offered.

“It is worth a try, Inquisitor,” Josephine shrugged. 

Leliana paused in her hunt, straightening and putting her hands on her hips. “Are you sure?”

Lavellan nodded. “Of course. Give me a few moments to get dressed and I will meet with them in the courtyard. That will give Leli a chance to evade them,” she told Josephine wryly.

Josephine nodded and left them alone in the room. Lavellan braced herself before wriggling out from beneath the blankets and scrounging around for her clothes. Leliana smirked and assisted her in looking, also finding her boots for her efforts.

“So, rumors aside...have you thought about it?” Lavellan asked.

“Thought about what? Accepting the nomination?” 

“About if you became the next Divine,” she clarified, her tone too light to be authentic.

Leliana balked, finding Lavellan’s shirt and tossing it at her while the elf pulled on her boots. “It’s absurd,” she snorted.

The elf shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t think it’s so crazy. You are incredibly intelligent, you know a lot about politics and matters of state, you have a large network of contacts...for once I think the Chantry made a good call, nominating you. You care a lot about what happens to the mages, the elves... The Divine would have a lot of influence in regards to such things wouldn’t she?”

Leliana frowned to herself, watching the elf finish getting dressed in silence. “I hadn’t given it any thought, Wyl. As I said, it was a rumor. One I thought was ridiculous,” she told her.

Rising and pulling on her long coat, Lavellan smiled. “I understand. Well, I’m off to frighten some Chantry robes with my wicked Dalishness,” she chuckled, pausing for a kiss before she opened the door. “See you in a bit,” she said as she pulled the door closed behind her. 

Leliana stared at the closed door for several moments, lost in thought.

**

Maryden the bard was on her third song of the night. There wasn’t much of a crowd in the tavern, but then there never really was. Skyhold was home to a busy organization, not some backwater in southern Ferelden. Everyone had actual work to do, driven by a cause they believed in and so didn’t have much time to spend patronizing a bar. Leliana appreciated that. She liked the quiet.

The Spymaster cut a glare over at Maryden, causing her to stumble over the lyrics to the song she was bleating out when she noticed. Leliana smirked, swirling her wine around in her glass. She set it carefully on the table and leaned back in her seat as Cassandra came through the door, looking around for only a moment before she spotted her.

“I am sorry; I was delayed,” The Seeker said as she dropped into the bench seat across from Leliana, who waved away her apology.

“I wasn’t sure you had gotten my message,” Leliana told her, picking her glass back up as Cassandra gestured to the bartender.

“I did, though I hardly believed it. You and I are candidates to become Divine? The Chantry is truly desperate,” Cassandra grumbled, drawing an amused snort from the former bard.

“Lavellan doesn’t seem to find it amusing. She talks like it’s my destiny or something,” Leliana muttered, pausing for a drink.

Cassandra studied her for a moment. “Is that what you think, as well?”

Leliana frowned down at her hands in silence. “At one time, not even so long ago, I might have.” 

Things had changed since Leliana had accepted her commission as Spymaster. The box from Valence had changed things, to be more precise. For many years, Leliana had thought of nothing else besides the Divine’s mission and doing whatever it took to see it become reality. And to a large degree, she had. 

So many things had been accomplished. They were not so sweepingly obvious as killing an archdemon or saving Divine Beatrix from a horde of dragons, but were just as impactful all the same. Over the years, Leliana and Justinia had laid the groundwork to alter the very foundations of the Chantry and therefore the society of Thedas as a whole. With her death at the Conclave and the fallout surrounding the Mage-Templar War, a foundation already in upheaval had become particularly frail. Now she wondered how much further she could push the world before it snapped back at her like a yew branch.

She knew exactly how much it hurt to get smacked in the face by one of those.

She had questioned her role before now, of course. Questioned whether or not she was merely a tool to be used. The sharp blade to accent Cassandra’s bluntness. No one else could do what Leliana had done. But Wyl had been right. It took its toll on her conscience. 

For the first time in so long, Leliana had truly begun to see herself as something other than a tool, or a weapon to be pointed at one’s enemies. Something other than a servant bound to an ideal. 

She had begun to want to be a little selfish.

“You will be accepting the nomination, then,” Cassandra concluded, looking up as her wine finally arrived. 

“I want to go to Rivain,” Leliana stated, looking off across the tavern with a somewhat wistful expression on her face.

Cassandra blinked at the abrupt change of subject. “What?”

“The vineyards there produce some of the finest wine in Thedas, and the beaches are second to none. And the Anderfels. I have heard there is a canyon there so deep you cannot see the bottom.”

“Probably a good thing, as all you would see are darkspawn,” Cassandra muttered wryly.

“Oh, and I want to visit Wycome,” Leliana continued as if she had said nothing. “Did you know the largest migration of blue monarch butterflies on the continent passes right through the city?”

“Since when do you care about butterflies,” Cassandra asked, incredulous.

“My point is, I am not ready to be tied to one place by duty for the rest of my life. I still want to travel, see the world. I want the freedom to do so.”

Cassandra grunted in agreement, tilting her head a little.

“Also I can’t imagine Lavellan would appreciate spending so much time in the capital,” Leliana smirked over her wine glass.

“Lavellan?”

Leliana shrugged, suddenly a little insecure. “I know we haven’t been together very long, and I haven’t actually asked her about it, but… I am optimistic. I am thinking in the long term.”

Cassandra looked a little confused. “Leliana, you would have to put an end to your relationship if you were chosen as Divine.”

Leliana blinked slowly at the Seeker. “Is that what you think? I wouldn’t just give her up.  _ Certainly  _ not for the Chantry,” she scoffed.

“It is the law,” Cassandra insisted.

“Then I shall change the law,” Leliana replied, growing impatient. Now she wanted to become Divine out of sheer spite. 

“Anyway, as I said before I’m not certain the role is something I even want,” Leliana demurred, finishing off her wine and waving at the bartender for another. She debated having him bring her a whiskey instead.

In fact, she might want to invest in quite a lot of it if these were the types of conversations she would have on a daily basis as Divine. Cassandra seemed so befuddled by the prospect of changing one ridiculous rule that Leliana actually felt a little sorry for her.

“I have been thinking about Justinia a lot lately,” Leliana admitted, crossing her arms and resting her elbows on the table. “I think about what she had hoped the Inquisition would achieve. What the world would look like if she had met all of her goals. If I were to become Divine, that is what I would want. To change the entire doctrine of the Chantry; open the doors to all and finally allow the mages to be free.”

Leliana sighed, shaking her head. “But enough about me. You have been nominated as well. Is becoming the spiritual leader of the Andrastian faith for all of Thedas something you aspire to?” Leliana propped her chin in one hand and smirked at Cassandra.

Cassandra looked into her glass for a long moment, thoughtful, and took a drink before she answered. “That doesn’t sound like the same woman I remember. To me she was always bound to tradition, upholding the Chantry’s tenets. There is only so much change the people will accept before it no longer recognizes the Chantry as reflecting their best interests. Justinia understood that.”

The Seeker glanced across the table at Leliana. “Did you know Varric is Andrastian? He blasphemes with every breath, but his heart is virtuous. Yet he would never step foot inside a Chantry. It should be the first place the virtuous turn. That is what I would change if I were Justinia’s successor.”

Leliana grinned at her, sitting back and raising her glass in Cassandra’s direction in a toast. “I think that is quite admirable. You would make a wonderful Divine, Cassandra.”

“Really?” Cassandra sighed, and gave her a dry look. “I never look good in hats.”

**

Leliana barely remembered the long walk from the tavern up to the Loft. She wasn’t terribly drunk, but her head spun all the same. Too many thoughts. Too much to consider. Too much happening at once. 

Lavellan wasn’t in the room when Leliana finally arrived at the top of the stairs. She tried to remember if the elf had told her she was leaving the castle for anything. She didn’t think so. In any case, they were both usually so busy that their schedules barely allowed them to sleep, much less at the same time. It wasn’t so unusual for Leliana to turn in either well before or after Lavellan.

The fireplace was cold. Leliana took a moment to replace the wood and start a fire before she did anything else.

Once that was finished, she sat on the edge of the bed to take off her boots. She got one off and lay back, covering her eyes with one arm. Just for a moment, she decided. Then she would get the other one off and get changed for bed.

That was how Lavellan found her an hour later as she wearily made her way up to her room. With a fond look at the bard, Lavellan shook her head a little and walked over, touching her shoulder to wake her up. Leliana didn’t startle awake but she did sit up and look at the elf in confusion for a moment before she relaxed.

“Sorry, I just didn’t want to get stabbed for taking off your boot,” Lavellan grinned, kneeling and proceeding to do just that as Leliana laid back down and peered at her blearily.

“Don’t have my knife,” she mumbled. Lavellan snorted, setting her boots aside and reaching for her hands to help her sit up and take off her chainmail shirt. She vaguely wondered how she could have fallen asleep in it in the first place.

Something was off. Leliana believed she knew what it was. Lavellan had been quiet ever since she had found out about the Divine nomination. Not that the elf was normally a chatterbox, but there was a tension about her. She tried too hard to be supportive, encouraging Leliana towards the Throne. It was as though the elf was...resigned. Like the decision had already been made.

Lavellan had told her earlier that day that it seemed everything was falling into place in a way that would lead Leliana straight to the Sunburst Throne. Having spent some time reflecting on that, Leliana thought she might have been on to something.

Things did seem to be lining up in favor of her becoming the next Divine: The support of the Grey Wardens following Adamant and her own history with the order. Protecting the mages, even though they had been conscripted, which had been a goal of hers as well as Justinia’s for a very long time. Her role in the Inquisition, which had been Justinia’s idea to begin with. The forming of the Inquisition itself. 

Had that been part of Justinia’s plan? For Leliana to succeed her and see their goals fulfilled? Was that something Leliana even wanted anymore? 

If it all  _ had _ been part of Justinia’s plan, why lead her to Valence? Just to give her an out--to assuage a guilty conscience? Leliana’s head was hurting again. Now was not the time to think about all of this.

“Would you leave me if I became Divine?” Leliana suddenly needed to know. Needed to hear it from Lavellan. 

The elf paused in the motion of loosening a buckle. “No,” she said fiercely. “I will never leave you.” 

Leliana looked up at her, studying her face. Finally she leaned forward, resting her head against the elf’s chest and hugged her close, feeling Lavellan’s hands cradle her face in return. She closed her eyes, content to merely drift for the moment. 

“I was worried, though,” Lavellan admitted in a quiet voice. “That it would be a requirement.”

Ah. That made more sense. Leliana was relieved.

“No. It may be what they wish, but I would never let it happen. Being in charge has to be good for something,” Leliana muttered.

That at least was something Leliana felt like she could deal with. Outside forces. She had a great deal of experience getting others to do as she wanted, either by reason, blackmail or blade. But if Lavellan had been looking for an out… Well. She wasn’t. So it didn’t matter. 

She felt the tension that had been present all day leave the elf’s body as she held her in her arms. Leliana gave her a testing poke in the ribs and Lavellan chuckled in return, kissing the top of her head. 

“Come on. Time for bed. You can take over the world tomorrow.”

**

The catacombs beneath Skyhold were dark and empty, and the damp air smelled of cool stone and earth. No one ever came down here. Most likely, the majority of Skyhold’s inhabitants were not even aware of its existence.

Leliana and some of her more intrepid agents had taken the initiative when they first arrived at the castle to explore it quite thoroughly. 

She knew the Inquisitor had done so as well, perhaps even more easily than the Spymaster and all her spies. 

Lavellan often enjoyed shifting into a cat or an owl and meandering the many halls and passages when she was mulling over one of the myriad earthshaking decisions they had set upon her shoulders throughout this campaign. She had, in fact, discovered a small library off the same passage that led to this chamber, and sometimes retreated there to think or study.

It was conveniently just across from the wine cellar.

Leliana paced through the catacombs slowly, hands clasped behind her back as she walked, waiting for her appointment. She could see why Lavellan chose to come down here. It was quiet, and close and safe. The environment lent itself to thoughts, which Leliana indulged as she waited.

What had been Justinia’s goal at the Conclave? She knew what she  _ told _ her, but had that been all?

If she had been in Justinia’s place, would that have been Leliana’s entire plan? Of course not. 

She knew Justinia had been planning to allow the Circle of Magi to secede from the Chantry and sever ties with the Templar order as a show of good faith. It would be considered madness, of course, but there was really no way to protect the mages and keep faith with the Templars. The war had proven that much. Allowing the mages to govern themselves was the right thing to do, and there had been a shortage of that for far too long.

If Leliana were Divine, she would have also used the opening to allow all races into the Chantry and opened the priesthood to everyone. Therefore it was likely that had been Justinia’s aim as well. 

Now the idea that she was somehow fated to become the next Divine caused her to balk. It felt like a trap, like she was being set up. Even if it was for the good of Thedas, even if it had been a trap set for her with the best of intentions, it was one that all of Leliana’s instincts were now telling her not to walk into.

That meant she had to find someone else to hang the Chantry’s expectations on and take her name out of the running, all while making it seem like their idea. Otherwise, it would be much harder to get herself out of this. Lavellan was right about that part. Whether by providence or design, the situation was sliding in favor of putting Leliana on that throne.

Leliana’s own candidates were Cassandra, of course--the easy option, and someone the Chantry certainly hadn’t considered.

Vivienne was perhaps the most ambitious person Leliana had ever met. She had started from nothing and risen to one of the highest positions a mage could hope to achieve. Her list of contacts and acquaintances rivaled Leliana’s own, and playing the Game was her second nature. If ever a mage were able to ascend to the Sunburst Throne, Vivienne would be that mage.

More than that, she knew Vivienne had her eye on it. Whether she thought she could achieve it or not, the fact that the idea had crossed her mind was encouraging. Her views didn’t line up with all of Leliana’s, but just by virtue of being what she was would open doors previously unheard of.

It was why she had decided on Vivienne in the first place. Cassandra was nearly as stubborn as Leliana herself and even if she did manage to convince the former Seeker to uphold some of her more radical ideas, all Cassandra would have to do would be not follow through and Leliana would have nothing to hold over her head.

Vivienne, however, was different. She was clever enough to know that without Leliana’s aid, she would have as much chance of ascending the Sunburst Throne as a nug in a pit of deepstalkers. She would owe her. Not to mention the mage had a far more colorful past than the Seeker. It would hardly take a decent Spymaster much effort to tip her out of the Chantry altogether, and the wolves waiting in the wings would eagerly tear her apart, and the mage knew it. 

Now all Leliana had to do was convince Vivienne to play along.

The First Enchanter breezed her way into the dank cellar as though walking into a soirée, with the kind of self assurance Leliana imagined only those able to set people on fire with a thought were able to achieve. Lavellan was similarly at ease in situations that should have put her on edge. It was a trait Leliana admired, both in the elf and the First Enchanter. It had taken her many years to gain a comparable serenity.

“I appreciate you agreeing to meet with me, and apologize for the location. There are few walls even in Skyhold that I trust not to have ears.” Leliana told her as she cleared the stairs and approached her, looking around at their surroundings with interest.

“I have met far less reputable figures in worse locations than this,” Vivienne told her with a careless smirk. “Though I can’t help but wonder what subject would cause the Inquisition’s Spymaster to be so careful in her own keep.”

Leliana crossed her arms casually, leaning against one of the many pillars in the room. “A keep open to many, and currently host to certain guests from the capital I would just as soon avoid.”

“Let us dispense with these subtleties, Spymaster. There is no need to be coy with me. I know you have been nominated to become the next Divine, and cannot imagine this meeting could be about anything else. What would you ask of me?”

“I would ask you to accept the nomination in my stead,” Leliana stated flatly. Though she hid it well, the slight stiffening in the mage’s shoulders gave away the smallest hint. She had caught her off guard.

“In your stead? Why would anyone turn down such an opportunity? Particularly a woman so driven as yourself,” Vivienne asked, honestly surprised.

“My reasons are my own, but they are personal and unrelated to the office itself,” Leliana reassured. 

"My dear, nearly all of Orlais would cheer your name were you to be made Divine while sleeping with the Inquisitor herself, no matter how they might sneer in public. Not a single person would dare challenge you with such credentials.”

“It’s not that. Not entirely, anyway. Are you interested?”

Vivienne eyed her shrewdly, tilting her head and crossing her arms. “I would hear what you have to say.”

“I’m certain you realize my help comes with conditions,” Leliana told her.

“I would expect no less,” Vivienne said with a careless flap of her hand. The intent look in her eyes belied her flippancy, however. Leliana had her interest.

“I will ensure you ascend to the throne and quiet the loudest voices of opposition until your affirmation. Afterward it will be up to your own retinue to keep you in power. In return the Canticles of Shartan will be returned to the canonical Chant of Light, and you will allow the mages to secede from the Chantry and reform the College of Enchanters if they choose to do so.”

“And if I refuse once I have been affirmed?”

Leliana shrugged. “I’m sure you trust that I can remove you from the throne more easily than I can get you into it. The odds are not in your favor after all, and that hill will only become steeper the higher you climb. Whatever secrets you think you have are no secret from me.”

Vivienne tossed her head back in a bark of mocking laughter. “Divine in name only. Always awaiting my handlers to approve of my every move while you blackmail me, lest I wander out of line,” she groused.

“I would not exactly call it blackmail,” Leliana disagreed.

Vivienne made an overly kind face at her. “But it is.”

“Call it what you will, then,” Leliana relented. “I am not forcing you to accept. I am offering you the Divineship, and those are my terms and the possible consequences. If you do not wish to take me up on the offer I will simply go to Cassandra. She is the safer choice, anyway. One I would not have to pull nearly so many strings for.”

“If I did not have something you wanted, you would have gone to the Seeker in the first place,” Vivienne hedged.

“Of course. The simple fact that you are a mage will create the opening for me to petition for other changes to the traditional Chantry doctrine.”

“And you will expect me to approve them,” Vivienne said dryly.

“I will expect you to have a good reason not to. How will my goals get in the way of your own?”

“If they get me excommunicated from the Chantry then I expect they will affect my goals greatly.”

“They will not. I have been Left Hand for over a decade, and a bard many years before that. Do you think I do not know how to be subtle?” Leliana asked, frowning at the mage.

“I shall have to keep you on as my Left Hand?” Vivienne wanted to know.

“No. You may choose whoever you wish. Or no one, though I can’t recommend that. In fact it would be best if I did  _ not _ remain as Left Hand.”

“Well. Now that you have maneuvered me into accepting my role in your little scheme... Pray tell, how are you going to get the Chantry to acquiesce?”

Leliana gave her a slight smile. “Leave it to me.”

**

“I need a favor.”

“Certainly,” Lavellan said, clasping her hands behind her back and waiting.

“You don’t know what the favor is yet,” Leliana reminded her, grinning a little.

Lavellan tilted her head. “Is it a bad favor?”

“Sort of.”

“Hmmm,” the elf smirked. “Intriguing. What mischief am I to get up to on your behalf, Spymaster?”

“I need you to have Cullen order his soldiers to post notices of official Inquisition support in Val Royeaux for Vivienne as Divine. I am having Cottar write them up.”

Lavellan merely raised an eyebrow, trying to look unflappable but still looking a little flapped. “I see.”

“They shall have to be seen posting them in uniform so there won’t be any doubt as to the legitimacy of the information.”

“Why not ask Cullen yourself?” Lavellan blinked at her.

“Because he will want to know why. And I will have to tell him. And I don’t want to. And you are the Inquisitor, not I. I would not presume to issue such an order without your knowledge.”

“I appreciate that. Vivienne and...not Cassandra? Doesn’t the Chantry have some things to say about mages?” Lavellan wondered as she moved towards her desk.

“It does. I am hoping the Inquisition’s backing will be enough to make her a viable nominee. I am pulling in a few other favors to get her accepted but it will not be easy,” Leliana sighed. 

Lavellan sat down and threaded her fingers together on top of the desk. “You have decided you don’t want it for yourself.”

“Yes.”

The elf tried to school the relief on her face, but Leliana caught it anyway and quirked a tiny smile. 

“I suppose I want to make sure it’s not because of me.”

Leliana tilted her head a little. “It is, somewhat. Does that bother you?”

“Not in the sense I am pleased that you take my feelings into account, but if I am keeping you from something you truly want…”

Leliana shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. “I thought about what you said, and I have taken some time to consider what I want. I do not think I am ready to give up so many of my freedoms, even such as they are now, for what the role of Divine will demand of me. And you cannot tell me you would be happy to live in Val Royeaux and have me believe it. Nor would it be fair for me to ask it of you.”

Lavellan sighed and leaned back in her chair, looking at the Spymaster intently. “No. I would not be happy living in Val Royeaux. But I would be happy living with you. So. Last chance before I send for a messenger…” she waggled the quill at her.

Leliana chuckled. “I’m sure. Go for it.”

Smirking a little, Leliana glanced sidelong at Lavellan as she began to write. “Besides...I believe I have found a way to have the best of both outcomes.”

Lavellan glanced up at her and grinned. “Of course you have.”

“Of course I have,” Leliana agreed.

  
  



End file.
